


Underneath The Bed.

by WhiteSheep



Series: Monsters [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bedroom Sex, Birthing monster, Boypussy, Creampie, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Forced Masturbation, Impregnation, Large Cock, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Parent/Child Incest, Pleasurable Birth, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Triple Penetration, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, deep penetration, i guess?, invisible monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteSheep/pseuds/WhiteSheep
Summary: Chapter One: Edward is fucked by something he can't touch or see. How... how that works?Chapter Two: A friend sleeps over after practice.Chapter Three: There’s something inside him. Somethingalive.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Invisible Monster
Series: Monsters [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629994
Comments: 45
Kudos: 859





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaim: This is a work of fiction meant only to entertain. The author does not condone any form of break of consent/rape, nor any thoughts expressed here reflect the author´s opinions/beliefs.
> 
> Disclaim 2: PLEASE do not use this or any of my other stories as an example of what real and healthy sex is/should be (let's keep in mind that condoms are not _just_ to prevent pregnancy. And if you're planning to stick something somewhere or let someone stick something in you, LUBE is your absolutely BEST FRIEND. Dry sex is only fun in theory!) and even LESS of what a healthy, nontoxic relationship is/should be.
> 
> This is so self-indulgence there's literally zero plot and character exploration. Very short.

"...A-ah...!” Edward stammers, hands bunching up the sheets in a desperate grip. His blanket is on the floor and his white t-shirt is rolled up to his chest, leaving in plain view the golden and almost flawless skin of his back and abdomen and the elegant shift of robust muscles underneath it as the young man tries to brace himself against the rough back and forth. His blond hair is plastered on his forehead, with beads of sweat rolling down his body to meet the already damp sheets, skin glistering under the side table lamp´s soft light.

The night outside is dark except for the streetlamps. No moon in the sky. A damp, warm breeze wafts through the open window like the breath of a living creature, bringing no relief from the muggy air inside the room. A ceiling fan spins lazily. The street below is a long meandering asphalt river cutting through big family houses, with large sidewalks and even larger front yards of green grass.

The crickets chirp loudly into the summer night and seem to be the only living things out there.

Everyone retired to their homes a long time ago.

The soccer player´s bedroom is enshrouded in a half-light. The sole bed creaks under viscous squelches and slurps, no staccato of skin on skin or the ruffle of clothes, except for the ones caused by the writhing young man twisted over his mattress, face buried on the pillow to muffle his voice but his hips facing sideways, legs spread apart, one foot with toes tightly curled raised on the air as if someone was holding it there.

But if Edward were to look, there wouldn’t be anything there. If he were to reach out with his hands, he would only find empty air. Doesn’t matter that he can _feel_ a firm grip wrapped around his ankle and calf that he cannot escape from. Doesn’t matter that his boxers’ left leg opening clings to him like a second skin of so wet, while the fabric of the right was pushed and stretched to the limit to make space for— _something_. Something that he can _feel_ filling his boypussy, screwing one way as it shoves inside and then the other as it draws back. Something that is _dripping_ with Edward’s slick. That is f-fucking him, hot and hard and unrelentingly, so, _so_ big and full of- of _nubs_ that slip into him, stretching then dragging and digging against his sensitive flesh and sending electric jolts that makes his breath break from him in shaky cries.

Edward has no idea what’s happening.

He woke what feels like hours ago, so damn warm and damp with sweat underneath the thin blanket. A weak breeze was coming from the open window, not doing much to break the almost oppressive summer heat. He could hear the ceiling fan above him.

Edward felt exhausted from his day, but his sluggish mind remained only half-asleep, still distantly aware of the world around him.

His boxers were clammy. He slowly became aware of a slow pulsation between his legs, hot and _pervasive_ , and he shifted feeling bothered, letting his thighs fall open, shivering as the fabric brushed against his lips. His body was so heavy and tired from training all afternoon. He didn’t want to move. The pulsation only grew worse, however. _Demanding_. Slick was soaking up through the fabric, to the point where even his ass was feeling a bit moist.

His dreams changed – or would better to call them thoughts? A faceless man leaned over him in the dark, kneeled between his open legs. Edward’s mind gave him his coach: a lock of his normally neatly combed salt-and-pepper hair falling over eyes of the color of old brandy, a faint stubble on a face that shows he´s closer to his fifties than his forties. But who aged well in a way many men don´t. A body without a lick of useless fat that´s broad and big in a way that spoke of pragmatism and hard, physical work. Mr. Haiden was a war veteran, Edward knew, and the young man could feel his face flushing, mouth falling open slightly, as one of those hands cupped his boypussy, broad and firm.

“A… ah…”

Mr. Haiden started to stroke a finger up and down along his slit, and the young man shivered at each touch and stroke, feeling his lips filling out and pressing against his cotton boxers. Soon, his coach stopped right over his hole and pushed a finger in. Edward whimpered at the sensation of the digit sliding inside him while wrapped on the soft fabric, bigger than what he expected, feeling himself quiver at the stretch. His heart pounded in his chest, soft moans rising as Mr. Haiden pushed harder and harder as if trying to go deeper. “C-coach H… Haiden…” The young man pushed his face against the pillow, panting. Hands closed into fists. His mind fumbled through his sleep, confused, because it didn’t feel like a f-finger anymore. It was _hot_. Thicker. Getting thicker? Edward could still feel something easing back and then squirming between his boxers’ leg opening and skin, warm and damp as it slid under the fabric and it was big and flexible as it twisted around, _it was not a finger_. That was not—the young man opened his eyes to darkness while gasping, finally pulled from his slumber.

_What—_

Disoriented, Edward squealed as it ground against his folds, pushing them apart to rub over his wet slit. Tiny— _bumps_ , nodes, dragged across the tender dimple of his hole, like the barest impression of claws hooking at him, scratching. And he gasped, clenched his legs together tightly but there was nothing. Of course, it was just a dream—and yet there was _something_ , something hot gliding across the skin of his right thigh and slipping under his boxers and rubbing his pussy over and over, writhing like a living creature determined to coat itself in his slick. He could feel it between the press of legs, thick and throbbing, but when he reached under the blanket, he only found his own skin.

He cupped himself and he could feel his lips spreading open again and again, but not what was grinding against him.

“W-… what…” Whimpering, he fumbled for his bedside lamp. The yellow lights flicked on and he flung the blanket away as well as he could, looking down – shock went through him when he saw a long shape deforming his boxers, moving underneath, while it seemed like there was nothing between his thighs. He reached again and once more his fingers touched nothing.

What’s happening? He was not crazy. He could f-feel it!

And yet—

Edward arched against the bed and moaned shakily, feeling himself opening around hard, hungry flesh, making him want to wail.

His eyes widened as his lips strained apart, a subtly pointed tip hooking at his leaking hole and wrestling with his entrance. It- it was too big! Edward never took anything beyond his own fingers, there was no way something this huge—! He just started to cry out-- when it jammed through, stretching him wider still, the strain tangible all up his inner walls. His breath evaporated, and he could only tremble, mouth working, as this thing crammed itself into him in firm, determined little shoves, nubs bristling out with its throbs and clutching a hold inside him only for it to drag loose as another inch sunk inside him. It was passing _through_ his hands, both still cupping himself between the quivering press of his thighs – he could feel against his palm the obscene stretch of his hole and he had no idea how he was not tearing apart.

The tip hit against a limit deep within him, and Edward suddenly was heaving out a heavy groan, trembling with tears in his eyes. It squirmed inside, pushing against that limit and sending a thrill of almost painful strain through the young man who gasped out, head tossing above the pillow as he pawed at his panicking pussy in a desperate attempt to still that thing. “N- no… don’t—!” He seized closed around it, wringing, trying to stop it through the sheer force of his walls. It didn’t seem interested in submitting – it dragged back suddenly, blunt nubs jutting across his insides harshly with every throb, and shoved in, ramming a winded cry out of Edward. He gasped, gulping air, whimpering as it started pulling back again, shakily reaching for the headboard to yank himself from that thing.

But it had other ideas.

Something wrapped around his right ankle and calf and wrenched his leg up and to the side, shoving him on his side and spreading him wide open. He could barely yelp in surprise before he had to bury his face into the pillow, biting the soft material as helpless moans were squeezed out of him as that fat, pulsating thing turned into a battering ram, hitting his deepest limit without mercy or pause. He grabbed the sheets, knuckles going white in an instant. Stroke after stroke after stroke and Edward could barely breathe, choking back desperate cries to avoid waking up the entire house, legs quivering and trying to kick and wring free but he could barely think straight with his depths taking such an abuse, nubs digging and dragging over his every sensitive spot making him want to wail. He didn’t even realize what was happening until he was right in the middle of it – orgasm rushed through his body like a surge of fireworks and heat, making his insides quake and tighten to cramping degrees around that rough assault.

The thing took no notice of his climax and continued the relentless strokes.

-

Two more orgasms and it still hasn’t stopped. His boxers and legs are soaked with the shameful overflow of fluids, excess rolling down from his stretched sex and splattering across the bed. A noisy, constant _squelch squelch squelch_ of that invisible, intangible thing fucking him, throbbing and perfectly slicked as it slurps out from the man's hole with a wet, lewd sound before squishing back in, pushing puffy lips wide apart as it sinks back into the wailing, panting man, and taking his virginity, indifferent to his pleads and protests. It’s so big that Edwards doubts he would be able to wrap his hand around it if he could hold it, and it should be impossible, laughable to think that something this huge could _actually_ enter him. And yet, it disappears inside Edward, his small ring of muscles stretching to an obscene degree without a hint of tearing as logic dictates it should, swallowing it to the thickest, fattest girth like an eager little mouth, slightly pointed tip pressing his cervix.

Then there’s a yank at his underwear and he can faintly hear the sound of fabric ripping as it is pushed completely to the side, exposing him fully to the empty room. He moans breathlessly, a hint of whining protest as his leg is pulled even wider until his sore muscles are protesting—then something slings across his ass, writhing slowly to bury between his cheeks and rub, smearing something slimy on his crack. A gasp rattles in his throat as he feels bristling nubs grinding him, a blunt head nuzzling insistently against his pucker.

Alarm quakes through him, followed by the cold realization.

“W-wait, don’t—!” He manages to wheeze out, face turning away from the pillow damp with saliva as he reaches behind himself in reflex—but his fingers close on nothing. A firm push and his eyes snap wide as his hole is jerked taut around the hot flesh grinding in. His back arches abruptly as he collapses back on the bed, biting the pillowcase again as he cries out and claws the bed desperately, trying to haul himself away, feeling the rounded head squeezing in against the reluctant stretch of his ass in sharp contrast to the relentless pounding against his cervix. His legs jerk and quiver, as a frenzy of little wet pops broadcast each nub pushing past the inner reach of his ring, locking the tip of that bulk into his ass, before it continues to squeeze into him in a single thrust. He trembles at the sensation of his flesh slowly yielding.

He expected pain and the sharp agony of feeling his insides ripping apart – but it keeps sinking, getting thicker and thicker, all slicked and hot and throbbing and making him stretch until his walls are _humming_ with tension and _cramping_ , a strain so intense that borders on terrible. But there is barely any pain. If anything, the rush of shocked pleasure as those nubs pave over his prostate mixes with the overwhelming use of his boypussy, washing through him and pushing throaty moans from his lips. He’s so horribly _full_ already but it doesn’t _stop_. His guts strain and tighten, blown out around that massive cock-like thing, and another fat throb courses its length, ending with a fresh, hot wad of liquids squirting in his intestines – and seems to grind against the one wrecking his cunt, prostate caught in the middle, and Edward keens out, coming once again with such a strength he blanks out for full seconds, vision going white.

When he comes back, it’s to those nodes dragging over his walls both in the front and in the back, one shoving in and the other yanking out, tearing a ragged cry from the man that even muffled on the pillow wet both with tears and saliva rings between pleasure and agony. They switch, a monstrously hard mass burying in his ass as the other slurps out from his pussy and then again, an alternating rhythm starting where he’s never left empty while being fucked from both ends. He can't breathe. Small slivers of rationality in the back of his mind keep telling him he has to be bleeding internally, flesh turned tattered from the sheer volume being forced into him repeatedly, keeping him unmistakably, devastatingly full.

His free leg cramps, bracing against the violent rocking of his body just as he digs fingers into the mattress desperately, trying to keep from being dragged back with each draw or thrown against the headboard at each thrust. The two cock-like things claim both his holes with a rapidly increasing, brutal pace. Rasps and groans rattle in his chest as he is filled and hollowed over and over, pushing even his generous lubrication to its very limit as their nubs rake at his insides till he can swear that the division between the two is going to be worn away.

His very core feels abusively bludgeoned, searing under the dual assault and turning his pussy and ass into a molten sheath of need and pleasure as the pain gradually fades, and the man is left as a babbling mess, breath drawing in gasps and leaving in helpless moans, his voice gradually growing sluttier with every moment, eyelids fluttering with his eyes rolled back as he is rocked roughly over the loudly creaking bed. The sound of those invisible, strange cocks wrecking his virginity fills the bedroom, louder than the ceiling fan, and Edward barely clings to consciousness as he’s completely ruined, claimed not by someone he likes but by something he can’t even see or understand.

A fireball suddenly bursts into existence inside his belly, searing and furious, washing through the depths of him and Edward arches, mouth falling open without a sound as his air dries out, clutching at sheets as those things hilt in tight, throbbing beautifully inside him. And as he starts sweating profusely, he distantly understands the flares of heat inside him like a firehose blasting his entire digestive tract as gushes of thick liquid, cocks swelling painfully and squashing his prostate and cunt into bits, which in turn sends him careening off the edge for the nth time. Fluid splatters across the bed audibly as his pussy spasms and quakes, squirting his raw pleasure.

Full and drooling, the young man collapses in a heap on the mattress, losing grip of consciousness and passing out.

Invisible to the eye and shrouded by the night, an unknown being slowly drags free from its impregnated prey, textured inches clinging to that worn ass and pussy and getting scraped clean of their juices. When it finally slips its tentacles out of the young human, earning a moment of twitching from the thoroughly used Edward, creamy white seed pours from his gaping, trembling holes, coating his thighs and spreading in a thick, slow-flowing layer on the bed.

It drops the young man’s leg and gets down to the floor, before slowly slinking underneath the bed and disappearing from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write a second chapter with Mr. Haiden instead of a tentacle monster.... hmm idk you guys tell me what you think


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wanted a second chapter of tentacle-action lol (looking at you kadorath and thank you again (シ_ _)シ)
> 
> btw I'm writing the version with the coach but I will post it as a separated story to avoid mixing the themes, sooo be sure to subscribe to be notified when I post it 'cause I absolutely don't have anything that resembles a schedule (*・∀-)☆

There isn’t such a thing as monsters, Edward told himself repeatedly.

And he believes in it. He has to. Monsters are no more than inventions of the human mind to deal with our fears and are therefore conceptual, intangible.

You cannot see or touch them.

“N… no, p-pleas- _ah_ …”

Even though they can see and touch you.

Edward watches, feeling welded to his bed, as Alan jolts then thrashes his head towards him, face flushed, eyes shut tight. The heels of his feet dig into the mattress on the floor with toes curled and turned inwards, knees fidgeting together, creased blankets in the space between them, hands twisted on the pillow Edward lent him when they went to sleep hours ago. His thighs are clamped shut, the lean yet powerful muscles coiled so tightly that Edward can see them trembling even in the darkness of his bedroom, can see his entire body shake. His mouth hangs open, letting out stuttering breaths and then whimpers, tiny moans, as a long shape slithers under his shorts, fabric bulging up right over his ass.

Edward realizes as he stares that he can _see_ something, faintly: a mostly transparent… tentacle-like… thing. Dark and blurry like a shadow. It disappears, he notices, where the moonlight coming from the window hits.

He wonders if he turns on the lights if it will disappear completely.

“D-Don…” It twists and coils like the tail of a snake, passing through the protective barrier of Alan’s legs as if they were nothing and diving into a loose leg opening, stretching it taut with how thick it is. “… ah a-ah, n-… o…” Alan lets go of the pillow with one hand to grapple onto Edward’s bedsheets in a fitful plea, eyes struggling to open. “Ed- _Edward_ …” His voice is a tight whisper, packed with desperation. It’s not the first time since Edward woke up to the sounds of stifled whimpers and struggling that his teammate tried to ‘wake him up’; with his back turned to the window he knows his face is obscured as he also knows that Alan’s glasses are on the nightstand and his contact lens in the bathroom. And that the other man cannot see past dim shapes without them.

Stomach tied into knots, Edward stays still, heart pounding as he tries to keep his breathing steady. _Monsters aren’t real_ , he wants to repeat through the cold dread spreading inside him as what is going to happen unfolds in his mind; a memory he buried deep, that he tried to forget, that he willingly made himself believe wasn’t real and there wasn’t any reason to be afraid in his bedroom at night.

 _Monsters aren’t real_ , and he doesn’t move, not knowing what might draw its attention.

The thing shifts between his ass cheeks and then more inches slowly start disappearing into the shorts. The result is instantaneous: Alan drops his grip on Edward’s bed to clutch at the pillow under his head, knuckles going white as he tosses his head, feet kicking and struggling. “No- no, _please_ …” The man chokes, a strangled whine leaving from between grinding teeth. The thing continues to move steadily, growing thicker and thicker. Alan buries his face in the pillow, visibly pushing his shoulders against the mattress and lifting his hips, back arching, a muffled whimper that drags and wavers until the sound of it makes Edward swallow thickly because it resembles terribly to a _moan_. “F-fuck…” His thighs slowly part as his hips jerk, tremble heavily.

Semi-transparent darkness seizes around the man’s right leg before suddenly pulling, making him drag a bit across the mattress with a yelp before shoving it to the other side, throwing Alan on his belly. He immediately opens his hands against the bed as if to push himself up but the thing- _creature_ , is faster. A dark tentacle laces around his waist like a serpent, hauling him onto his knees and sending his loose t-shirt to his chest, as another at the same time slides over his now exposed lower back and seems to twist around the elastic band of his shorts, before yanking it down. Alan gasps loudly, eyes going wide, which is fortunate for it covers Edward’s own sharp inhale – bowed away from its coil around a thigh, a black limb is visible slipping between the cleavage of his teammate’s ass, spreading his cheeks. Sinking out of view.

The young man feels his body going slack in stupefaction. From his angle he cannot see but—

“W, what,” Alan stammers, gripping the sheets in tight fists. “What are y-you doi—” His voice cuts off into a groan as the black thing pushing into him flexes and then starts drawing back, causing a loud _sucking_ noise as thick fluid starts slowly dripping on the mattress between his legs. Edward stares, wide-eyed, as it keeps pulling back while getting thinner and thinner… until it’s no larger than his thumb. It stops briefly, leaving only Alan’s shaky panting and small whimpers filling the dark bedroom. Two heartbeats later, it starts moving again, squelching back inside the young man with wet little pops – the nubs, Edward realizes – who chokes a half-worded protest, eyes squeezing shut as he presses his forehead on the mattress.

He breathes in a weak, rough rasp, something tinted with a sob, when it finally _stops_ , long past what Edward´s reeling mind thought reasonable. The reverse happened and now the thing bowed against Alan’s ass seems as big as a thermos bottle.

 _Holy fuck_.

Edward´s skin is shivery with what, after he jerks as he realizes that he´s goddamn _staring_ , he refuses to think is anything but horror. _What the fuck are you doing? That is your friend, you should- you should-!_ He grits his teeth and closes his eyes as he presses his thighs together, feeling a hot throbbing between them. He’s getting wet.

A sliver of his attention snatches at Alan’s abrupt gasp that then melts into a shaky groan, picking up the slurp below it. “A- ah…” Wet and tight dragging, pause, then squishing again as the man whimpers. “… p… please, no…” A slow rhythm starts, each sucking growing louder as if Alan was wringing at it, probably instinctively because the great lubrification this thing seems to have naturally makes it a fruitless effort, only succeeding in providing an even more close-fitting hole to it to squeeze into, while turning the draw so more acute to himself. Edward… Edward knows this very well, after all. His mouth is dry as sweat trickles down his temple and neck, heart thundering in his ears while his breathing grows faster even against his will. Is this really happening?

Edward shudders at the cries that burst from his teammate, the choked whimpers and moans that follow as the mattress springs creak and the wet friction gets louder. Perhaps speeding up in pace—he bites his bottom lip, hugging his stomach tighter, the noises assaulting his ears making it harder to think. “P-please, just- just… a little… g-gentler _—ah ah…”_ Slick is seeping through his boxers, sopping the upper part of his thighs. Edward swallows, breathes out shakily and pushes a hand to cup himself under the blanket, rubbing his already hard clit as Alan moans out.

He opens his eyes.

One of his legs has been pulled up, spreading the man and keeping his hips even higher, at level with Edward’s bed, and giving a licentious view of the pink fold normally hidden by the rounded cheeks—now stretched wide around a thick black tentacle, perhaps 5 or 6 inches wide, squirming and flexing relentlessly as it works in and out of the man, spinning to one side as it shoves deep then the other as it draws back. Viscous liquid leaks out, running from around the thing and rolling down his ass cheek and inner thigh and stretching gooey ropes every time it slides out, that break and drip on the mattress. Alan’s cock swings in counterpart to the harsh rocking of his body, hard and splattering pre, and under Edward’s wide gaze, another smaller tentacle slips around it until it´s completed enveloped except for the head. The tip of it arches above the glans and opens, sections peeling back not unlike the petals of a blooming flower, and starts exuding that same transparent, strange liquid – and it goes from flower to a drooling mouth.

It then latches on the pink cockhead, petals closing around it until it´s completely out of view and Alan is keening, trashing, knees jerking uselessly under the firm grip around it. “N… no, stop, please I’m g-gonna—” A violent shudder wrecks through the young man who suddenly grows silent, head swinging back as his mouth hangs open, eyes shut tight. The coils of the tentacle glide over Alan’s shaft, while the flower-like tip seems to pulse: a subtle flex that bobs up and down the length, startlingly similar to a human´s swallowing neck. Then Alan gasps out, falling back on the mattress as he slumps for just a moment, heaving heavily for air – but the creature doesn’t seem interested in giving him time to recover. One of his hands on the mattress is seized and pulled back until it’s behind his neck, forcing Alan to stretch out his chest for the thin vines steadily coiling around his torse in a mess of transparent goo, slithering over his nipples with the pink points and pinching, it seems, seeing the way Alan trembles and twists his shoulders. The one fucking him never stopped, while the one sucking and jerking his cock continues its motions even after his orgasm passes. Toes splaying and curling, he weakly writhes his legs, attempting to close them as he starts to moan again, shaking his head as if in denial of what´s happening to him, while his hips jerk neither forward nor back in a helpless search for an escape from the dual abuse.

“No, p-plea-…se… too m-much— _please- ah ah ah-”_

There´s a sickly-sweet smell under the stink of human sweat, and it fills his nose at each breath and Edward pants, slick-soaked fingers sliding easily in and out of his throbbing cunt as his other hand thumbs his clit, his soft moans disappearing under the sounds of his friend being violated on the floor right beside his bed, dominating the bedroom. He has no idea how his roommates aren’t hearing any of this.

 _Or maybe they are_ , he thinks distantly, _maybe they just think we’re fucking_.

His eyes linger over the bucking figure of Alan, watching as another semi-transparent tentacle slithers from under his bed to prod at the man´s face and chin. He cuts off a crying moan and clenches his mouth shut, twisting his head away with a frightened expression—but a second tentacle rises from the floor behind him and slips beside the branch plowing him and, without dawdling, _shoves_ against that beleaguered ring. The poor, strained man is yanked wider as the tendril-thin tip slips in easily only for the girth to thickens swiftly as it sinks in at once, deforming his rim almost to an eight-shape. Alan screams, flinging his head back – but the desperate sound breaks off with a thick, guttural gag as the prodding vine close to his face promptly _thrust_ into his mouth. He can see the older man´s throat bulging out in no time, an obscene swell that extends as the squirming dark limb pushes between his lips, and Alan’s voice is reduced to a hint of a sputter around lurching slurps as he quivers.

Edward´s clothes are clammy and his body seems to roast under the blanket but he still tries to keep his movements to a minimum. Rubbing his love button, he pushes a third finger in and muffles a whimper at the stretch, shivering at the visible knob running all the way down his friend´s neck, disappearing into his body. Can see it pulling back as the tentacle slips out of the other man´s mouth with wet slurps and smacks, making that oozing liquid and saliva flow down his face and allowing him a single, desperate cough for air before it shoves back in. Thick bulges surge in his usually trim belly in alternations, in matching tempo with the fat cock-things flexing between his cheeks and taking turns in fucking the man in different rhythms but with the same avid vigor. Slick squirts out of his hole at each plunge, trickling down his crack and spattering all around. His balls flop about wildly while his cock is held steady, the flower still attached to its head with the rest of the tentacle curled in tight rings around the shaft, forcing Alan to fuck that grip with the plowing thrusts into his ass.

Edward doesn´t think it´s… possible to resist long under such rough treatment, regardless of whether it’s welcome or not. And sure enough, soon Alan’s legs are jerking and spasming again in little kicks and the soccer player can see his friend’s slim muscles tensing under his bindings as a gurgling groan surges from the man, muffled by the mass lodged in his throat as he rolls his eyes. He sees the other man´s cock throbbing powerfully, even if not a single string of cum is seen. Instead, the wriggling vine wrapped around his shaft goes into a squirming frenzy, pumping the man roughly while the flower-like tip pulsates rhythmically, drinking his second orgasm right off him.

 _Fuck_ — Edward labors towards his own climax rapidly, legs pushed apart tensing and flexing as he fingers himself rather roughly, cunt almost sore under such treatment. He´s panting softly through the mouth, beads of sweat rising on his brow, clit hard and pulsating as he watches his teammate and friend being fucked by the same creature that took his virginity. How—how in the world has this happened? The question rattles inside his head, doing nothing to damp the heat rising in his very bones, as he _listens_ —

The creature shows no sign of stopping or even slowing down. A high, whimpering sliver of gagged noise starts slipping from the man as he twists all the more desperately as he´s milked for more, the tangle of shadowy limbs around him wriggling with renewed energy instead of tiring as a human would. Alan’s back is arched so much that his gaze goes right past the bed and settles on the wall above his head, eyes wide yet glazed. His chest quivers with the struggle for air under the ramming tentacles, and Edward has no idea if he _can_ draw breath – and if he can, _how_. The thick tentacles flex in motion between his legs, wriggling and delving nearly a foot into the man each time with loud squelches, slick-coated lips stretched thin around the one lunging down his throat and suffocating his screams as his eyelids flutter.

Eventually his forms… slumps. Eyes roll back. Relaxes into a malleable dough with his body bending in the middle as his hips are rocked back and forth, and Edward can´t tell if he passed out with his eyes half-open or… or gave up.

Or gave _in_.

The creature in its strange lustfulness seems to notice how pliable its toy became and launches into a new fevered frenzy. The soccer player can hear both ports of entry sucking and slurping with the sloppy friction of rock-solid, semi-transparent and intangible tentacles enthusiastically thrusting into taut flesh, and he stares in almost wonder as his friend´s body swings in an undulating motion like a manhandled ragged doll. More and more feelers of see-through darkness seem to slide from under the bed, rubbing at each inch of skin available from their human toy: run between his curling toes, wrap around his ankles, rubbing his upper arms and back and hair, _grooming_. In a single instant, the entire contingent of tentacles quake together and _tense_ —then thick ropes of milky white gush from every tip, stretching as they paint Alan in splashes and stripes, sticky fat drops clinging to his skin and soaking his hair. A gagged gurgle and liquid sprays out from around the log between his lips and runs downs his face, squirts out from his exhausted ass at each shove of those cock-like things still fucking him as his bulging belly loses a bit of its definition, bloating outwards – his hips give a trembling jerk and his cock throbs and feeds the eager little flower once more, every drop slurped up.

The already damp mattress starts to gather puddles, and the floor around it is splattered with white, growing until after a few quivering moments, all movement stills. The young man is left half-hanging in the ringing, sudden silence from his arms, legs, and torso, the flow of the thick white liquid tapering off to a trickle of fat drops and small rivulets, leaking from both used entrances of his almost perfectly motionless and completely painted body.

Edward stares at the scene in front of him with a daze born out of shock and simmering arousal. Heart hammering his sternum, he swallows through a dry mouth and moves fingers sticky with his juices. He came while watching, almost without noticing it.

The smell is unbelievably strong and the room itself seems filled with hot steam.

Alan quivers weakly as the tentacle slips out with loud slurps and a wet sucking sound from his throat, until it pops free and then the man is coughing and hacking the strange creamy liquid, whole body heaving in jerks as he tries simultaneously to breath and spit out the liquid clogging his airway. The other black limbs start unwrapping their hold and the man is lowered back to the ruined mattress, body collapsing like a soft and unreliable pile, shivering as hoarse, ragged moans escape his caked lips, mouth hanging open and eyes half-closed as inches and more inches of squirming darkness squelch out of his hole, now visible covered in gooey, dripping white. Both thicker than a very respectable cock, they leave Alan’s ass gaping, little ring puffed and quivering, leaking steadily.

Edward swallows as he watches the tentacles retreating, leaving their thoroughly used prey to disappear under his bed. And for a while all that can be heard are Alan’s heaves for air, mixing with hoarse and weak whimpers and painful, wet coughs.

Then after a few minutes, he quiets down and the rasping sound of breathing can be heard.

With a flushed face, Edward closes his eyes, feeling the fading heat between his legs and the remaining goosebumps bristling his skin from time to time, as he inhales the stuffy air tainted by a musky, warm odor. Sweat. Cum.

And something sickly sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just so you know, three holes are _way_ too many holes for me to keep track of while writing, so that's why Alan only has two, 'kay? 
> 
> so please don't ask me to write one with Edward or my brain might break _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_ and then you guys won't have any more porn


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because apparently i cant put the impregnation tag and not write a weird-ass birth scene. Who knew

Edward hardly notices anything at first, except for a slow yet continuous increase in his appetite. He goes from three regular meals to five, six in the first week, and although he tries to control himself when he realizes he is growing heavier and that his middle is becoming a little swollen, his stomach cramps in hunger every time he goes less than two hours without eating something. By the second week, it is larger enough that he has to resort to loosen clothing to hide it. By the third, he has swollen enough to a burden during practice and even his day-to-day life, and it’s when Edward accepts that something is wrong and he’s not just getting fat.

For one, it’s just his belly getting bigger while the rest of his body remains roughly the same.

For two, it seems as if there’s a furnace inside him, boiling him from inside out.

Panicking and trying not to panic, he gets a sick leave and locks himself in his bedroom.

Two days after that it’s when something changes.

He is pacing trying to figure out what he should do, but he gets tired so easily these days that after a few minutes he’s forced to sit down on the bed, almost breathless. He wipes sweat from his brow, clothes sticking to him uncomfortably with beads trickling down his back, and reaches for his stomach pushing against the front of his t-shirt. It’s the size of a football now and firm when he presses and warmer than the rest of him. Since yesterday, it seems to pulse steadily and he can feel it now, as he splays his hand opens over his bloated navel. A soft breath scraps from his throat when something seems to react to his touch, shifting inside. He pants, his already flushed face from the heat fills to a dark red. This too—since yesterday.

There’s something inside him. Something _alive_.

How is that possible, he doesn’t know. Did that- that _thing_ impregnated him when it fucked him all those days ago? How would that even work? His head spins, confused and frighted. His thoughts jumble when a strange, unfamiliar pressure surges through the core of him, rippling under his skin and he shudders, groaning heavily. “W-what-” It happens again, stronger, and his hands fall behind him on the bed as he arches with a gasp, barely registering his legs falling open on their own. Down, between his thighs, liquid bursts, soaking up his boxers and shorts instantly, darkening the fabric. Edward takes a shaky breath at that, a cold shiver climbing his back at the realization.

He barely manages to stumble into his bathroom before another surge of pressure has him collapsing against the sink, the muscles of his back as if twisting in painful cramps yet the inside of his thighs buzz, hot and quivering, and the noise he makes rings off the tile walls, filling the air. By the time he reaches the bathtub, the buzz seems to have clawing inside him and a different liquid is leaking from him now, stretching into thin transparent lines when he removes his boxers and the rest of his clothes and slicks his folds as he flops against the tub wall. The next contraction hits him sooner than before and Edward clings to the tub, eyes squeezing shut. His body trembles harder, and relentlessly pulsations seem to converge towards his pussy—towards his hole, and he opens his legs without thinking, feet squeaking on the tile as he squirms and tosses his head to the side in denial. The weight inside him slowly stirs… downwards. Edward’s back leaves the wall, knuckles going white around the tub’s edges—his lips are straining open and something is coming out.

A dark, trembling thing slowly slips out, stringing juices from its abandoned home as it slops onto the bathtub, uncurling to reveal itself as a long tentacle. But it’s not over. The weight continues to dislocate. Another pressure surges through his pussy and Edward has to bite his lips to muffle his cries as another coiled body squeezes out with a viscous squelch. Tears roll down his cheeks as he stares at the ceiling. Not in pain but in terror of what is happening. Of the welling sensations deep in his loins, which could only be described as— _No_. Not pleasure. He is _not_ feeling pleasure from birthing this- this twitching, endless _thing_ , jostling against his strained insides and squirming against his walls. He is not— he is _not_ …! His feet slip and squeak against the bathtub, trying and failing to find proper support as nails dig into the tile, chest heaving up and down in harsh short breaths. The trembles his body lapsed into under the harrowing ever-growing strain on his hole just can’t be from- from _pleasure_. It _can’t_.

Edward chokes back a sob. What’s happening to him?

A thick knob drags between his walls slowly and almost painfully until it presses against the inside of his cunt. Edward quivers, gasping, and almost lifts his hips from the bathtub when his thighs clench, back bowing as it pushes, pinned to his tight spot and wiggling. It slowly starts to win. A wet noisy burst from him as his hole opens around that creature, and his hips jerk to one side and the other, muscles of his middle spasming and working to squeeze it out as he holds tight to the tub. His skin bristles and tingles all over by the time the knob pops out with a wet squirt, but his body firmly continues to push relentlessly, Edward sucking air and pushing it out in wet moans. Toned legs waver as his pussy taut tightly around a fat swell, holding it hostage for a brief second of pure tension— then a cry breaks from the young man, whose heads falls back against the wall as the world erupts in white, orgasm rushing through him as the creature finally slides out, splattering noisily on the bathtub.

He collapses, panting heavily in gusts. It takes minutes before he has enough strength to even move his head, to look at what just came out of him – long shapes tremble and move slowly, extends from the back of a dark and almost completely transparent body like an evening shadow that has gained dimensions, only being possible to delimit its shape because of the slightly opaque liquid covering it and even this is vague. He swallows thickly, not understand what he’s seeing… except something of it seems terribly familiar.

It slowly starts to uncoil, stretching out vaguely-shaped hind and front legs and unfolding long, uncountable tentacle-like limbs in a wavering, squirming mess that takes almost the entire free space on the tub, some spilling out to the floor as it reveals itself as much, much bigger than his original football-size. Edward stared at it, mouth hanging open as he just sits there in dull shock, incapable of moving. Taking in the world around it, the creature finally turns to the one had birthed it, revealing something of a head – but its features were impossible to distinguish from the wall behind it. Despite that, there’s a low chittering hiss that couldn’t have come from anything else, and Edward answers with a tight, frightened sob. It rises, no smaller than a medium-sized dog, and moves to him. Edward tries to immediately move back, but he’s pressed against the wall already so he kicks—and feels his heart go cold as his feet go through that thing as if it was made of air.

“N-no way,” he whispers, horrified.

The creature chitters again and leans forward – entering an unexpected ray of moonlight coming through the window as the cloud before blocking it moves away. It disappears. Edward stills, staring at seemly nothing—only to yelp as something seize around his knees and shove them up, folding him suddenly in half under a sure grip and pinning him onto the tub wall, exposing his freshly eased sex. His arms are sized above his head while long shapes slither slowly over him, lacing around his chest and shoulders and even ankles, leaving trails of cold dampness on his skin. Struggling for air, he tries desperately to fight against strangely yielding, wet flesh holding him, but finds there's no such strength left in him. His body feels heavy, exhausted. He’s too weak to do anything but whimper as hot flesh, still slick with his womb’s liquids, pushes suddenly between his cheeks, spreading them to grind up into his puffy folds, dragging tickling nubs all the way up to push till a blunt point catches at his hole. Oh g-god, no way. It wants to- to-

He drags a shallow, fast breath to protest—and find it driven from him in a helpless moan. It’s burning against his so recently abused insides, stretching almost easily to allow it to bury deep with a single shove and yet it continues to shove deeper. He feels every fat, terrible nub dragging across his flesh, catching and digging into his taut inner walls as it thickens the deeper it goes. One short, jerking draw wrecks him and he’s barely choking in the cry born from this feeling before it thrust again, shoving that blunt head tight to his still recovering cervix and sending him up against the wall, squirming eagerly like no cock could ever to until it finally- finally _yanks_ that entrance open and punch through. Edward’s breath breaks, rattles inside his throat in choked wet noises, eyes snapped wide with dumb shock as that point strains against deep folds of his womb and shifts around, staring at his still deswelling belly deforming again as his spread lips throb. As if wanting to crawl back from where it just slipped out, claiming his pussy once again but now in a completely different manner – not as an infant leaving its mother’s womb but as a creature keen to fuck and mate, even if it’s the cunt that birthed it seconds ago.

The things holding his knees flex slowly that dual grip, folding him even tighter in half till his knees nearly touch his shoulders. A cloud blocks the moonlight for a moment and Edward can see it, this creature that it’s basically _his child_ pressed against him, see-through body with a soft gleam of liquids bent over him – then the light comes back and once again it disappears, leaving him pinned to the wall by nothing. If someone were to see him now, they would not understand why he’s whimpering and shivering out for there’s nothing to see – for all that the tentacles-like limbs gliding over him leave viscous trails that gleam slightly under the light, looking for another place to put its seed – soon enough one of them finds it, a puckered, winking little fold just under the pussy taunt in an obscene O-shape around seemly nothing and giving a perfect view of his quivering, panicking inner walls. The thick rounded tip smears a sticky mess all over his cheeks before it finally pushes a thick glob straight into his tail hole, setting the young man shivering and kicking at the air. "No, no- please, _not there too_ —” Indifferent to the human’s pleas, it pushes in tight and hard, and a scream tears from Edward’s throat as perhaps five or six inches of tentacle-cock shoves inside ass, those little nubs cruelly burrowing into his canal – so much easier this time, despite being weeks since the creature’s father violated this exact same hole.

The child watches its creator’s distorted form with dim recognition, and with its understanding of the world limited to survival and breeding, any resemblance of fondness turns into covetous satisfaction in gripping every inch of Edward and punching its prodigious reproduction tools straight through the strangling, straining grip of his pelvis. Another shove and it ratcheted two inches deeper, driving his ass wider than any human dick could ever manage, and with plenty more to pack into him – seemingly infinite length stretching out. The tentacles draw in a rough, clinging drag and then plunge in together to shove all the air out of him in a bellow, toes splaying open and nails tearing at the tiles as monstrous dicks plows deep into his body through both his holes, steamrolling over his prostate and g-spot simultaneously with a thousand little hard nubs. Hot liquid splatters across the bathtub squirting out of his violated boypussy, his internal muscles flexing uselessly around those things as he comes.

His stomach makes a wet gurgle when those invisible yet plumb logs of flesh push his belly up before his eyes. A visible swell grinds around slowly, before dragging back and disappearing together in sync with his holes closing gradually like a little mouth. A surge of pressure and his belly punches outwards again, distending him in a snap of wet flesh and pushing a cry from him. His breath rattles in his chest among moans and sobs as he tosses his head weakly. "No... n-no...!" The dual drag of flesh on flesh is agonizing even with its juices spewing all over his insides, and Edward lets his head fall back, eyes staring, as the invisible creature works into a steady, savage pumping through his quivering form, half his body consumed by the rut of this inexplicable creature, looming over him in the moonlight. His body dominated, filled and seized.

His traitorous clit is throbbing maddingly, his liquid arousal drooling all over the tentacle fucking his womb, coating it. His skin is damp with sweat and other unbecoming liquids, trickling down his sides as he fights off the press of pleasure closing around his spinning mind. He can’t breathe right, he finds out. Its nubs are tearing him apart. His flesh dragging down and slipping free in painful jerks, raw and throbbing. His eyes snaps shut as he gasps, chokes on throaty groans, his body quivering as his bowels tremble and heave around the intrusion. He thought he knew what it felt like to be full after--… but it seems he has forgotten... this is not merely _full_ ; to call the way his body is contorting around those things, his muscled stomach bulging outward and his ribcage creaking… to call this full is the same that calling the Titanic a boat. His body is being reduced to a sleeve, stretched into the shape of those prickly behemothian tentacle-cocks. Here, folded upon his bathtub, bound and stuffed, he feels like an object – just something for this creature to use and enjoy before dumping its inside, make him pregnant with his own child’s child. And this thought crushes his last shred of consciousness, of _sanity_ , before a fresh thrust swept the crumbled remains away.

Edward goes limp. His eyes linger unfocused on the empty air in front of him, slowly glassing over as his body trembles and rocks up and down with those ruining plunges. The fast, wet squelch of flesh, the young man slipping against the bathtub, fills the small room that grows warm and humid. This creature first act after being born being violating Edward to sate its desires, its other limbs tightening around the human’s wrists and knees as it pleasures itself with the hot, warm holes it has claimed, making soft hisses that no one could hear. The bottom of the bathtub is covered in a thin layer of excess, viscous liquid spilling from around each thrust, scraped off the tentacles to wash down over the man’s ass and stretching thick, wavering ropes as they yank back — but this almost steady peace couldn’t last.

A hot air washes over him, and two balls of heat, raw and sizzling, burst in his womb and stomach, one last dive and his poor, abused, already sore belly bulge inches in front of his as his eyes widen and snap painfully to life again, mouth falling open without a sound. The round tip of those spires surge fat and with thick fluids washing through his digestive system and flooding his womb, forcing him to take every drop, to be bred like a good little bitch. His toes twitch weakly with one more worn orgasm of his own even as he grows almost nauseated, his bones creaking with the thick throbs of these rippling, barbed weapons grinding through the core of him. He lets out a weak, tiny whimper with what little air he manages to draw, face misted with drool, tears, and sweat. Still, it bruises either side of his collarbone with Edward’s own knees as it holds the young man tight to his fresh impregnation, its nubs a bristled mass digging into his battered insides while hosing them down with a load that just keeps coming and coming, a thickly condensed payload of the creature’s essence marking Edward from inside, claiming him, reasserting its ownership of the body who made it.

Whimpering faintly, Edward weakly shudders when almost two feet of those thick, pulsing tentacles slurp out of him slowly, his canals sweltering patches of tingling, wet flesh. The painful holds on his body disappear and he tumbles to the tub’s bottom in a broken heap, musky juices leaking from his sex and ass in thick rivulets, wreathing him in steam as he struggles shakily for air, staring at the ceiling.

Edward lies panting weakly, clutching at his once again swollen, soft belly as his cervix slowly, sloppily closed around the liquid content still inside him – sweltering hot and somehow never seeming to cool, only burning warmer. He whimpers as squirming somethings slithers over his body, dragging across his shivery skin—and yet when he weakly reaches for it, he grasps empty air.

For there is nothing there.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, feel free to visit me in my [tumblr](https://play-of-kids.tumblr.com)


End file.
